


Metamorphosis

by alinova



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deaf, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Hearing Impaired, Insomnia, Stilinski Twins, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This is a really gay fic, be warned, half deaf, like i can't even express it, milena is especially gay, prepare for the gay, she's so gay, so incredibly gay, so much gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-05 23:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinova/pseuds/alinova
Summary: NOT ANOTHER STILINSKI TWIN FIC. Unfortunately, yes. That's exactly what this is. I'm sorry. I had to. This one is based around Milena Stilinski, a hearing impaired insomniac with a massive crush on Erica Reyes - who, predictably, is very oblivious to this fact. Takes place from season one onwards, but doesn't follow the plot too faithfully. Key events are stuck too, though. It's not crazy different. Just enjoy it.





	1. Chapter 1: A Day In The Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Yep, as you can probably tell from the description, I've got another Stiles twin Teen Wolf fic here for you. Well, what can I say on the topic beyond sorry for being so cliche? It's genuinely a good premise. I'm happy with it. So, anyway, seriously, this fic is an important one for me because my OC in this fic is very much inspired by myself. Yes, I am the infamous half deaf insomniac with anxiety issues and all the other crap. Her character isn't exactly like me, but she's close enough to a self insert. Also, this will not faithfully follow the story of the TV series, and dialogue and occurrences will be similar but not exact. Just a disclosure. The next chapter will hopefully be done soon, so I hope this introductory chapter will be enough to tide you over until the next one's up. Enjoy.

The struggle of being a half deaf insomniac with various anxiety and mood related issues in high school was not the increasing rate at which it was getting harder and harder to hear people in the busier areas of the school (which basically meant everywhere), nor was it the constantly building, impossible work load that piled on and on until it was very much a metaphorical and literal mountain. No, the struggle was that because the problems weren't visible - they weren't a cast for a broken leg or a pair of crutches - they just weren't taken seriously, or rather, into account at all. Conveniently, both teachers and fellow students alike seemed to just forget that, yes, Milena Stilinski was in fact deaf in her right ear and hearing impaired in her other - and that,  _yes_ , she was somewhat socially anxious and barely ever managed to get a good night's sleep because she was also an insomniac. There were no visible reminders, and so it was easy to forget and overlook. That was the struggle. And with a twin who had pretty severe ADHD and various hyperactive tendencies, it was near impossible to simply exist and take things slow and mellow, and to relax. It was even harder to get by with all of these factors when the girl of Milena's dreams was present in the vast majority of her classes.  _That_  was just the cherry on the cake.

Milena didn't like to lend too much of her time towards thinking about her struggle with existence, but her brother was late for school again, and as he was her ride... she didn't have much choice in waiting.

"Stiles!" She called out again, way too tired to actually yell. She'd managed a grand total of four hours of sleep last night. A triumph, in her books, but still not enough to allow her to feel energised. There was a brief, audible altercation upstairs, which Milena was sure was the sound of her brother stumbling over the piles and piles of miscellaneous rubbish strewn across his room, and then... Stiles appeared at the top of the stairs, and promptly fell down the stairs as well. It said a lot about the amount of noise he was making if  _Milena_  could hear him, 'cause... you know... she was half deaf. "Man..." she had no response to her brother's failings other than the default, which was to be exasperated.

"No, look. Don't do that. Listen-" Stiles dashed about the kitchen, collecting up his school books and throwing them into his bag. "You are the one person in life who is obligated in not judging me." He ventured towards the cupboards, rifling around for a poptart, but then Milena cleared her throat and he spotted the poptart she had already toasted for him waiting for him on a plate over by the toaster. "So, Lena, come on. Do your job. Support me, please. I need it. I'm a gangly, pale bag of bones and skin and unadulterated sarcasm, with dwindling social skills and even less social status. As my very own twin sister - the one who entered the world with me - you  _have_ to have my back."

"I think..." she sighed, climbing dutifully into the passenger side of the beloved blue Jeep, and buckled herself in. "I really think you're both overthinking and over exaggerating. You forget that I have sixteen years of watching you fall over under my belt, Stiles. There's only so long I can maintain the 'oh dear what an unfortunate accident' approach and with four hours of sleep, I'm even less capable of keeping my amusement under wraps."

Stiles was fiddling around with his seat, adjusting the... height and closeness to the wheel, and... whatnot. Eventually, he seemed to be happy with things, and started up the engine.  _That_  also took a few tries, but Milena was well aware that nothing in life was perfect, and so she waited with the utmost grace and patience. She was good at that - patience. One had to be, with Stiles Stilinski for a twin brother. Speaking of which...

"Four  _whole hours_ , huh? Jesus, Lena, you'd think you were a high schooler or some shit. What could you  _possibly_  have to be stressed out about? I don't get it."

Milena stretched out in the passenger seat, yawning. She offered Stiles a tired smile. She always appreciated his ironic sarcasm. He was a master of his craft. "You get me," she placed a hand to her chest, over her heart, nodding sincerely. The drive to school was a relatively short one, and the two of them weren't well known for their tardiness and general positive attitude towards education.

"If it's any consolation, sis, I got even less sleep than you did." Stiles yawned on cue, not bothering to hide it with a hand. It was fair enough. He  _was_  driving. In her tired state, it took Milena a few seconds longer than usual to process the information she had just received, but when she did she frowned.  _Less than she had?_  Sure, she recalled the obnoxiously loud sound of Stiles climbing both out and later  _in_  to his room through his window, and she remembered noting that the time between had been fairly substantial, but she had assumed he'd managed to sleep before and after, passing out in his usual spectacular and instantaneous fashion. It hadn't occurred to her that he may not have gone back to sleep when he got home.

"What the hell did you do?" Milena demanded, a little more awake now with her indignation. Stiles was never up to any good. Well, he was in  _intentions_ , but he also held not only a rocky idea of what was fun and sometimes even moral, but had a loose respect for the law. It could not be assumed, under any circumstances, that he had gone out for some good, clean fun last night. Milena narrowed her eyes and grabbed her brother's arm before he managed to exit the vehicle, having parked. As previously mentioned, neither of them cared much for tardiness. The Jeep remained parked in the lot. They'd get out when they were ready. "Stiles, what did you do?"

His eyes were as wide and deliberately unassuming as he could make them, obviously aiming for that jackpot puppy dog look that would soften her approach, but Milena was not only sleep deprived but crabby, and was in no mood for her brother's illegal exploits. Not when their Dad was as tired and worn out as he was. Not when it was so easy for Stiles to get caught.

"I... did... nothing...?" Stiles tried, his voice rising in pitch as he went on, phrasing it like a question.

"I'll rephrase that. What did  _you and Scott_  do?"

"We... may... have... goneoutintothewoodslookingforadeadbodythatIoverheardthecopstalkingaboutonthepolicechannelthatIinterceptedonmyradiointerceptor."

Milena inhaled and then exhaled in a very visceral manner. Good lord. Holy shit. Hooooly shit. This boy would be the death of her. "What else?" She sighed, shielding her eyes with her hand.

"Don't freak out when you hear this, 'cause I know you love Scott like a brother." He paused, eyeing her, waiting for her to confirm that she was preparing herself not to freak out. Milena removed her hand and stared back at him, unrelenting. Stiles snapped his fingers, pursing his lips and nodding along as if he'd expected such a reaction. To be fair, he most likely had. "Okay. Right. Well. Scott got bit, a little bit. Not much. Not deep. Barely even... a scratch, really. He's fine. Barely bled, or anything. Really, if you think about it, he's, uh, better off now, because-"

"Mieczysław." She monotoned, trying to disregard the way he winced at hearing his full name. "Did you get Scott to a hospital? Or even to Melissa? Did you get him  _proper medical attention?_ "

"Well... yeah, but in a truer, much realer sense... no. Not at all." He preempted Milena's reaction, and held his hands up in front of him, mouth moving at 100 miles an hour to get the words out to excuse himself with. "But!  _But_... he's totally fine. Absolutely. I promise. He knows all the stuff. His mum's a nurse, remember? He's got it handled. He's good. He's fine. Don't worry about him."

"And you? Nothing got you? Are you okay?" She began to harrass her twin, checking him over for injuries and bruises and hidden bites. He was seemingly unharmed, batting at her hands as she tried to examine him.

"Hey! No! Stop! Fuck! I'm fine! I'm okay. Chill out. I'm all good. Nothing got me, except maybe a realisation that I should  _really_  do more cardio."

"You're not funny. You're lame, and dumb, and irresponsible." She unclipped her seatbelt, and began to clamber out of the Jeep.

"Anything else you wanna insult me with?"

"Yeah. You also stink. You smell bad."

Stiles very visibly panicked, briefly, and began to hop about, for some reason, as he tried to smell his armpits. "Really?"

"No." Milena led the way, and waited for him to be level and in stride next to her before she graced him with a smile and reassured him that, no, he did not actually smell bad. Now that the high school was looming the twins fell into a silence that was only uneasy because they both knew what they were about to face. Milena let the back of her hand nudge her brother's, her little finger curling briefly around his for a moment as they walked. It was the most comfort he would allow her to offer him, in public. She knew his anxiety was much worse than hers was, and that even though his insomnia was mostly self inflicted, it still affected him. What a pair they were, the problem addled Stilinski twins. The nearer and nearer they got to the dreaded building, the higher she could feel her heart rate go. Thankfully, a blessed distraction in the form of Scott McCall arrived, and he fell into step on Stiles' left side. It was a walking format they had to maintain at all times. Milena always walked on the right, Stiles walked on her left, and Scott took up position on  _his_  left. It was essential purely because that was the only way Milena could walk with them and hear the both of them comfortably. Otherwise, there were a lot of 'what?'s and 'huh?'s and 'what did you say?'s.

Immediately, Stiles turned and began walking backwards, his eyes lighting up with the prospect of seeing something that had the potential of being both bloody and gruesome. "So? Come on, let's see this thing."

Scott stopped walking. Stiles stopped walking. Milena also stopped walking. Scott lifted his shirt, and revealed a bandage. Taking his time, and ignoring Stiles' impatient bobbing about, he peeled back the bandage to reveal... a nicely healing bite mark. Oh. That wasn't as bad as Stiles made it out to be.

"Gnarly," she commented sarcastically with an ironic surfer's rock and roll gesture. That consisted of her basically making the traditional rock and roll gesture and just... wiggling her hand about a little bit.

"Not definite, but I'm pretty sure I got bit by a wolf," Scott commented, watching as Stiles prodded tentatively at the wound. Stiles scoffed, loudly, and gave an erratic shake to his head.

"No way."

"I heard a wolf howl."

"No, you didn't."

"I did."

Milena decided to intercept, then. "Maybe... you heard... a really enthusiastic... bird?" The boys gave her a simultaneous look, and they all set off walking again. Moments later, they were at the doors, and though they all knew it was the veritable point of no return, none of them commented on it. It was a silent agreement. A wordless oath of comradeship in this hellhole of an establishment. "Brief subject change," Milena spoke up once again to permeate the silence, "but Lydia Martin is walking this way."

Immediately, as was her brother's standard reaction, the mention of the strawberry blonde angel of darkness of herself sent a tense excitement running through Stiles' frame, both electrifying and setting him on fire with merely the concept of her being in his presence. Milena liked girls. She did. She had a crush on a girl. But that girl was not Lydia Martin, and considering the attitude Lydia directed towards Stiles' general existence, it wasn't unreasonable for Milena to be at a complete loss as to why her brother still loved the girl so much. From what she could tell, and had known for a long time, having been Stiles' number one point of discussion and venting when it came to Lydia - Milena knew that her brother's feelings for Lydia were sincere, genuine and not just based on aesthetics. She could appreciate that, sure, but she did  _not_  appreciate the way Lydia treated her twin. And that, she figured, was  _more_  than reasonable. It was possible she was biased, or over protective. But it was hard to stand by and watch Stiles be so hopelessly head over heels and worshipful of a girl who seemed to genuinely have no idea that he even existed. He wasn't even a presence on her disdainful radar. Regardless, as long as Stiles was happy with his infatuation, she would support him. As long as he wasn't actively being hurt, she would let things proceed as they may. She did register Stiles' attempt to say hello to Lydia, but that was as fruitful an endeavour as could be expected, and her brother was left, once again, in the proverbial dust. He was visibly disheartened, but there was no time to comfort him, as the bell for first class had decided to ring at that exact moment. Instead, she settled for patting his shoulder. He was more than used to Lydia's cold shoulder, anyway.

The class progressed with it's usual brain dead fervour, the teacher droning on and on at the front. Chalk scraped across the board, and the clock ticked ominously, but still not fast enough to be satisfying. Milena had dedicated extensive amounts of time staring at clocks. She had come to accept that no amount of making eye contact with time would make it go faster. It was a tragedy, but it was what it was. She was distracted effectively enough by her twin's restless inability to sit still beside her. He scratched at his head, he tapped his pen, he clicked his pen, he bounced his leg, he fiddled with his books and drummed on his desk. He did  _anything_  but sit still, and it was exhausting. The teacher was one of the ones who liked to  _forget_  that she was half deaf, and so Milena didn't find it important to put effort into remembering his name. In fact, she preferred to just call him 'the teacher' and take further credence away from him being an actual human being. The man himself was making an announcement just then on the subject of the very dead body Stiles and Scott had gone out looking for last night. The one Scott had gotten bitten looking for. Milena wasn't... actually paying attention, though. It was very,  _very_  difficult for her to ever pay attention in that class. Mainly because Erica Reyes was also in that class. She wasn't within her line of sight. Not today. She sat behind her, but it was impossible for Milena not to be extremely acutely aware that Erica was back there, and could see her. It affected her in so many ways. She could never relax. She was tense throughout the entirety of every lesson, sat almost rigid in her chair, her knees weak even though she was sat down. Her stomach was always in knots and her back felt like it was the target for about a million archers. She felt vulnerable. Erica Reyes had that effect on her. It was ridiculous, but it was also a strangely pleasant, giddy sort of feeling. It kept her attracted, quietly admiring. But it also kept her silent, too shy to actually engage in direct conversation. She could barely say hi without breaking a sweat. Milena knew it must have looked like she actually hated Erica, the way she avoided her, but being as anxious as she was, there wasn't much she could do to dissuade such an impression.

She was too distracted by both Stiles and Erica to notice how tensed up Scott was. She was too caught up within her own mind to recognise the uncharacteristic way he was twitching about in his seat, focusing on something outside, gazing at it so fixatedly he almost looked terrified. Nobody noticed, in fact. Not even Stiles. But there was no time for it, anyway, as the new girl was then introduced to the class. Allison Argent. She was beautiful. Dark, lustrous hair, creamy complexion, rosy lips and cheekbones that could quite honestly put Greek Gods to shame. There was also this natural friendliness to her, an aura of not only calm but also light, and that reflected keenly in her eyes. She was a welcome sight to the dull classroom, and if the way dozens of boys and girls alike suddenly straightened up in their seats, she was going to be a sensationally popular girl, too.

Looking at her, Milena could see how anyone could fall in love with this girl. Obviously, she was beautifully, and in an effortless way, too, but she was also... comfortable, somehow. She hadn't even spoken yet. It was bizarre, but Milena just knew that without even knowing the girl. It was wrong to subject her to this ideal without making the effort to get to know her, first, because assumptions were dangerous, but... still, Milena couldn't help her first impression.

She watched in astonishment as Allison accepted a pen from Scott. Melina had seen him grab the pen from his bag before Allison had even entered the room. She'd thought it was odd, because Scott already had a pen out and ready on his desk, but maybe he was low on ink, or something. Nope. Somehow, Scott McCall - the dazed, shy, absent minded boy - had predicted that this beautiful, out of this world girl would need a pen. From the look Allison had given Scott, Milena knew this was just the beginning.

Well, then. Wow. Unexpected.

She felt a familiar foot kick lightly at her own, and turned slowly to look over at her brother, seated in the row directly next to her own. She raised an eyebrow, ignoring the paranoia she was experiencing knowing Erica could now see the side of her face. Did she look okay? Was it her good side? Did she  _have_  a good side? Whatever. It didn't matter. Erica didn't care. Stiles' eyes darted from Milena's face down to her hand, and she followed suit. Her hand was shaking. Why was her hand shaking? She looked back up to Stiles, both eyebrows raised now, and saw he was imitating her expression almost exactly. So quickly, fast enough that nobody else would notice, Stiles' eyes darted in Erica's direction, a question behind the motion. Milena gave a slight nod, and a shrug. Stiles seemed to accept that explanation, as it was nothing new, and then his eyes skittered away once again, and directed Lena's attention in Scott and Allison's direction. It was clearly his original question, having kicked her moments after the  _pen thing_  had happened. She shrugged in response to that, too. She had even less of an idea as to what the hell was going on as he did.

By second period, Allison Argent was officially a popular kid. Inbetween classes, Lydia Martin had descended, with boyfriend Jackson in tow, and had stuck her claws very effectively into the shiny, bubbly new girl. Milena wasn't surprised. Lydia reminded her a lot of a magpie - always after new, shiny things to collect and play with. It didn't phase her. She'd never cared much for the social hierarchy. Stiles, however, did. And seeing as Scott was all head over heels for Allison, so did he, in this instance. It made her day unbelievably dull and repetitive - even borderline annoying. She had a certain capacity for these things, and that was on a good day. There was only so much a long suffering sister and childhood friend could take from Scott and Stiles, and it was near impossible to stomach when it was so concentrated. All she heard all day was Lydia and Allison and popularity and Scott's bite. There were, of course, the thankful reprieves in conversation in the form of hockey, classes and sleep deprivation, but... it just wasn't enough. By lunch, Milena was well and truly done. She was beyond her realm of reasonable withstanding, and as the same, mindless conversation continued between Scott and Stiles, she found herself deflating, sinking into an exhausted, sleep deprived heap on the cafeteria table, her head hidden away in her arms. Insultingly, it took them a whole five minutes to realise she had retired from functioning, and it took them even longer to grow concerned. Scott was the first to notice, his eyes darting away from Stiles as he spoke, and trailing over to land on Lena's despairing form. He nudged her, his foot seeking out her shin with a gentle kick. She grunted, but didn't sit up. Stiles was oblivious, for the most part, distracted as Lydia had swanned into the cafeteria.

"Lena?" Scott asked, scooting up on the bench next to her to get close enough to start poking her. "Lena, rise and shine."

"Let me die," she grumbled. Scott would have rolled his eyes, but he was just too kind for that. Instead, he kicked Stiles' shin, a lot harder than he'd kicked Milena's. "Stiles. Your twin sister. She's dying."

"Ow, dude! What the hell? Okay, she's dying! Nothing new. When is she not dying? She does this every day."

"Today just... seems more serious."

Unlike Scott, Stiles was not above a good eye roll, and so he indulged, dramatically. "Milena Stilinski, if you don't sit up right now I'm going over there to Erica's table and I'm telling her everything you've ever said to me about her. Capeche?"

With an uncharacteristically energetic start, Milena jolted right up, her spine ram rod straight, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide with alarm. "You would not. You will not."

"Well..." Stiles gestured ominously, "Keep yourself conscious, then. Can't take the risk. I'm unpredictable. I could do anything. Don't risk it. It would be for your own goo-"

"If you tell her I'll tell Lydia."

Stiles raised an eyebrow, and then retracted himself from the bench, spreading his arms out wide and smacking at his chest. "Come at me. You'd be doing me a favour."

It was Milena's turn to roll her eyes. "Sit down. Don't be an asshole."

"Born that way, as were you." Stiles gave a sassy jerk to his head. Another eye roll from Milena. Scott watched on in patient bemusement.

" _Anyway_ , Scott." Milena stressed, deliberately turning away from her brother and towards Scott instead, "How are you feeling? Is your fatal war wound bothering you at all?"

"No, actually. I'm kinda surprised. It seems to just be... healing."

"That's... odd? I don't know if that's odd. Is that odd? I've never been bit by a bird pretending to be a wolf. I wouldn't know."

"It  _was_  a wolf."

"No, it wasn't." Stiles intercepted quickly, eyes on Lydia across the room. His leg was bouncing, Milena could tell from the way his body was bobbing about in his seat.

"Dude, I heard it." Scott protested.

Once again, Milena deflated. "Please, just please... for the sake of anything either of you hold dear... find something new to talk about. Please? I can't do this all day."

"Allison-"

" _No._ "

"Lydia-"

" _NO._ "

"... Erica?"

"Proceed."

"Erica... is currently sat down. At a table. Over there."

"Astute observation. Continue."

"She is also eating her food. It appears to be salad."

"What's she drinking?"

Stiles squinted, and Scott swivelled round in his chair to look. "... I'm pretty sure that's OJ."

"... Amazing," Milena breathed, almost reverently. "Of course. She loves orange juice."

"Milena..." Scott began, and even though Stiles shot him a warning look, as it was obvious what topic he was about to attempt to breach, he continued, "when... are you going to... you know...?"

Milena drummed her fingers on the table, regarding Scott with a contemplative look. "Hmm? When am I going to talk to her? Oh, never. Possibly in the next life. Not this one."

"You have to at least try..."

"Says who? Are you gonna make me, Scott?"

Stiles raised his eyebrows. Milena raised her eyebrows. Scott raised his hands to defend himself. "She's really nice, Lena. She's super easy to talk to and she's not even..." he gestured vaguely in Lydia's direction and Stiles sat up a little straighter, "Lydia or Allison or anyone popular, you know? She's not scary. I think you're really missing-"

"I... I just can't, man. I wish I could. I really do. But I can't. You don't understand... to me, she  _is_  scary."

Stiles nodded along sagely, "Hot Girl Syndrome. Even other attractive girls suffer."

"Aw, bro. Did you just rate me a bro out of ten? Bro. That's sweet, bro. Bless you, bro." Milena offered Stiles a chip as a sign of appreciation, and he smacked it out of her hand. She watched it fall to the floor in dismay.

"Don't mock me. Don't. I'm a fairly good looking guy, no? By right of twinship, that makes you equally as attractive. Fact. Law. I declare it."

"Man, that's a shame. I thought you were giving me a selfless compliment."

"Never assume such pure intentions, dear sister."

"You guys are weird. I don't say that enough. But it's true. Weird." Scott took a sip from his drink and then returned the topic to that which Milena had tried so hard to avoid, "Seriously, Lena. I talked to Allison, and it was the best thing ever. Erica's so nice."

"When have you even spoken to her?"

"I spoke to her... once."

"See? You don't know."

Scott sighed, rubbing at his cheek, "Just consider it."

Stiles weighed in, then. "He has a point. You'll never know unless you try. Another fact."

Milena cast her gaze downwards and then away, glancing over her shoulder at the blonde girl who hid herself away in the corner of the cafeteria. She supposed she could do it... if it made Erica realise that she wasn't invisible. She thought nobody saw her, and Milena suspected she even  _wanted_  no-one to see her, but it was painfully untrue. Milena saw her. She always saw her. She saw her so plainly and clearly that it almost hurt her to watch Erica curl up and tuck herself away. Lena groaned, and sunk back into the safety of the table, just as Erica Reyes lifted her eyes from her plate and returned the stare she'd had fixed on her.


	2. Chapter 2: The Harrowing

Lacrosse was easier, but only because she didn't have to stand around with the boys for that one. Taking a reclusive seat up in the stands, she could watch from a safe distance, enjoy the practice games and the possibility of watching her brother getting hit with a ball, and not have to put up with over eager conversation about Lydia and Allison. Which was a blessed relief on that day of all days, because the two girls had decided to grace the lacrosse team and the entire field with their presence, and were sat barely a few rows away from Milena herself. Annoyingly, though, they didn't seem to feel like stopping there, and took it upon themselves to integrate themselves into her day further. Lydia was the first one to instigate conversation, predictably. Her sharp eyes sought out Milena's, unforgiving and upfront in the way they examined her, from head to toe and, it felt like, from the inside out. She resisted the urge to shudder and instead gave a weak smile, eyes a little too wide to grant her the appearance of calm.

"Can we sit?" Lydia asked in a way that really wasn't a question. It was more of a demand. Milena let her eyebrows raise, blinking in incomprehension as she processed what was happening. Still waiting for a response, Lydia's own, perfectly groomed eyebrows shot upwards, evidently not used to being made to wait so long.

"Uh, yeah. Of course." Lena eventually got out, and returned the kind smile Allison had offered. Letting her eyes dart away from the girls and over to the two boys on the field, she caught sight of Stiles waving his arms around maniacally and all but losing his mind at the mere fact that Lydia Martin had decided to interact with his very own twin sister. She sighed, internally, but kept a steady, natural smile on her face. It  _was_  nice to have company - she loved Scott and Stiles but spending every waking moment with them was driving her a little nutty. Besides, she never got female attention. Especially not  _popular_  female attention, and it was a nice little boost to her ego.

"You're Melanie, right? Stilinski? The Sherriff's daughter?" Ah, there it was. The customary getting her name wrong. It happened every single day. She didn't even react to it, brushing it aside with a wayward hand gesture. Lydia had obviously meant no real offence, though Lena did wonder if it was a bit of a power play. She knew Lydia Martin was blindingly intelligent, and insanely smart, as much as she tried to hide it. There was little chance Lydia, the queen bee of the school, had really gotten her name wrong. It was something Lydia audibly prided herself on, wasn't it? That she knew the name and face of everyone in the school. She'd made it her mission and her job to know. Instead of rising to her baser instincts, Milena ran a hand through her hair and tried her best to ignore the very visible way her brother was losing his mind in her peripherals.

"It's Mih-lay-nuh. M-i-l-e-n-a. Milena. It's Slavic. Polish." She tried not to sound too irritated when she said it, but she doubted her success in doing so. Lydia said something in return, but she was no longer speaking in her loud, all encompassing voice, and herself and Allison had sat down on Milena's right side. The deaf side.

Lena tapped at her ear, shaking her head, "Sorry, I'm deaf in this ear. Could you-" but before she could finish, the girls seemed to understand, and were already shuffling over to sit on her other side, Lydia climbing over to the next row so that she could engage Milena comfortably from the front. "Oh. Thanks." She had to admit she was taken aback. She wasn't used to people going out of their way to cater to her impairment. It brought an unexpected genuine feel to her smile, now. She was beginning to feel warm, despite the biting cold.

"I'm Lydia," the Queen held her hand out for Milena to shake, "and this is Allison." The other girl did the same. Milena shook both, smiling pleasantly. "You have a twin, don't you?" Lydia inquired, unexpectedly.  _Yeah_ , Milena thought to herself,  _there's no way she didn't know my name_.

"Uh, yeah. He's down there, playing Lacrosse. Number 24. That's him. Stiles." Milena pointed down to her brother, praying he was somehow managing to assume the look of someone who had control over their body. Thankfully, he was, to someone who was only just glancing his way the way that Lydia and Allison were. The moment they looked away, he began to lose his mind even more than before, and it was up to Scott to calm him down. Milena smiled, scratching at the back of her neck.

"He seems very... excited." Allison remarked, diplomatically.

"He was born excited. Stiles has too much energy. He doesn't know what to do with it."

Lydia made a contemplative sort of humming sound, her eyes narrowed. She was staring at the boys, unapolagetically, and it took Milena following her very direct gaze to realise she was, in fact, staring right at Scott.

"Oh, hey. I see it. The twin thing. You two are totally twins. I don't know how I didn't see that." Allison commented brightly, her dimples popping with the genuine happiness behind her smile. Milena couldn't help but to return it. She was about to respond, in fact, when Lydia snapped out of her Scott hazed trance.

"Can I call you Mila, for short? It suits you. Mila, the puppy dog. Scott. What do you know about him?" Lydia's tone was demanding once again, almost competitive in nature and entirely too harsh for a Thursday afternoon. Lena shifted about uncomfortably, hesitant to admit even to herself that she did actually like the nickname 'Mila'.

"I've... known him forever. He's my brother's best friend. Always has been. He's just a nice guy. Probably  _the nicest_  guy you'll ever meet. He's a genuinely good person. Why?"

"No... reason. He's just suddenly really, really good at lacrosse. It's an unexplained phenomenon that I'm trying to solve." Lydia responded with callous ease, throwing one of her legs delicately over the other. Milena frowned, turning to pay real attention to Scott, for the first time. Watching him now... there was this inexplicable finesse to his every movement. A power. Not once had she ever seen Scott move like that. As if on cue, he spun, darting past every opponent on the field, and scored a flawless goal, the ball hitting the centre of the back of the net. It really was... nothing but net. Lena gaped, her mind working overtime to try and provide any sort of reasonable explanation for what she was seeing. But there was nothing. She came up blank. The only remarkable thing to happen to Scott in the past...  _year_  was... that bite.

"I see what you mean," she murmured, uncertainly. She chewed at her lip, brows remaining furrowed as she considered the fallout of this. Jackson Whittemore had been the undisputed champion and star and captain of the Lacrosse team for as long as anyone could remember. It was something he took great pride in, and not once, in as long as... however long they'd attended Beacon Hills High School, had anyone even thought about stepping on his toes. Scott's new, seemingly natural talent was bound to cause not only a great uprising in the social hierarchy of Lacrosse, but bring him about a lot of trouble, too; in the form of Jackson himself. Milena gulped, dragging a hand down her cheek.

"Well, Mila... see you later. It was nice to officially meet you. We should hang out sometime. I'm having a party this Saturday. Come. Bring your brother and Scott. Ciao." Lydia waved goodbye, collected herself up, and then began to leave. Allison followed suit, and then - just like that - they were gone. Milena let out an enormous sigh, a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, and let her posture decline back until she was leaning against the bench in the row behind and slightly above her. She didn't know how these people did it. How did they maintain such stressful social interactions - especially with each other? She didn't know if it was because she was aware that they were popular, or because they were beautiful and confident or if Lydia Martin was just a genuinely terrifying person - but that had been the most harrowing moment of her year so far. Lena stretched her arms out, propping her elbows up either side of her on the bench she was leaning on, and returned her attention, reluctantly, to the two boys on the field below. Scott was radiating with happiness, a huge smile on his face. Stiles, however... he jumped around, whooping and dancing about with that signature lopsided, open mouthed grin of his, and both thumbs held up in her direction. Well, she was certainly the twin of the year. She readied herself, knowing she was in for the grilling of her life once they met up with her afterwards. She groaned, hiding her face away in her hands. She was too  _tired_  for this shit.

Cracking an eye open and parting a few of her fingers, she took a daring peek at where Erica was sat, off to the left and down right at the front of the bleachers. She sighed, once again. She really was too tired for this. Life was getting way too exciting way too soon. With a long suffering whimper, she fell back onto the bench behind her again, and stayed that way until Lacrosse practice was over.

* * *

Predictably, she was all but tackled to the ground when the boys came barrelling out of the changing rooms. With a distressed, wordless, audible protest, she turned on her heel and led the way back to the Jeep, resigning herself to answering every question they had. Scott, at least, was content to walk alongside her, a noticeable skip to his step and a broad smile on his face, but no overreaction. Stiles bounced and danced and flew about, impossibly hyper-active. It hurt her eyes to try and keep track of him. Instead, Lena focused on Scott, and answered his questions first.

"What did she say?"

"Allison? Not much. I think she's as scared of Lydia as everyone else. She's really nice, though. I can see why you like her."

"And... did she... talk about... me?"

"Well, no, but she didn't have to, you know? She kept looking at you, and stuff. It was cute. I think she likes you."

Scott punched the air, his grin widening, somehow. He threw an arm around her in a half hug, squeezing her sidelong against him before releasing her to walk alongside her again. "Thanks, Lena."

"Of course," she responded. Unfortunately, though, this left the conversation open now to Stiles, and  _somehow_  he'd been patient up until now - a real testament to his friendship with Scott - but as soon as Scott appeared to be done, Stiles seized the opportunity, and leaped into his sister's field of vision. "What do you want to know?" She sighed.

"Everything."

"Everything? No. Specifics. I'm not giving you a detailed script."

"What... did she smell like?"

"Dude," even Scott protested, shaking his head in disappointment. "Come on. You're better than that."

Stiles nodded ambitiously, still springing around. "Okay. Yeah. You're right. Uh, did... did  _Lydia_  talk about me?"

"Yes, actually."

Stiles screamed, caught off guard. "Woah, what?! Really? Shit. No way, nuhuh. Lydia Martin... knows I exist? She knows my name, and everything? Did she ask about me by name? Does she like me? Does she wanna... does she wanna go out, sometime? Did you ask? Did she compliment me? Did I look  _okay_? Did she... oh, God. Did she-"

"SHE ASKED IF I HAD A TWIN." Lena yelled, her hands planted firmly over her ears. Sure, she was deaf in her right ear, but she was also suffering from tinnitus - a constant, relentless noise that ranged from white noise/static to a high pitched ringing, to a piercing, almost painful noise. On top of all of that, it wasn't just the case that her eardrums weren't working - they were actually really healthy. Her ears were fine. It was the nerves in her ears that were dead. They couldn't send the sound to her brain anymore. So she received the noise, it affected her and attacked her ear drums, it just didn't come through as sound. It was instead, this horrible, awful blaring  _pressure_  that was perhaps even more uncomfortable than the tinnitus itself. Often, when he was too caught up in his ADHD inflicted tendencies, Stiles would forget all of this. Thankfully, Scott never did. Dragging them all to a halt, Scott took a firm hold of Stiles and rooted him to the ground, his other hand planted on Lena's shoulder.

"Dude.  _Stiles_ , stop. You're too loud on the wrong side. Stop."

Immediately, Stiles was motionless, mouth agape with shame and self deprecation. He curled himself around his sister, his arms anchoring her to his chest, his chin coming down to rest gently on her head. Carefully, he tugged Milena's hands away from her ears, and then circled his arms around her in a hug again. He let them rock, swaying side to side as they stood. He tilted his head, pressing his cheek against the top of her head, and rubbed at her back.

"I'm really sorry, Lena. I gotta stop doing that. I didn't mean to. I can't help it. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts."

"It's okay, it's okay. It's just... too much. Calm down a bit. Lydia knows you exist, okay? She invited me to her party this Saturday and said you can both come."

Stiles screamed again, but silently this time, and only after he'd detached himself from her and sprung a few paces back, spinning to leap up higher than he'd ever jumped before to smack at the nearest bit of ceiling. They were almost at the exit of the building, now, and really the timing had been perfect, because... what else would Stiles have hit? Probably anything. Milena laughed, revelling in his joy. It was rare she ever got to really see him  _this_ happy. It was more than relieving. Once Stiles had actually calmed down enough, the three of them made the rest of the way towards the Jeep, and Scott dived through to the back, taking up his usual position in the seat. Lena slid delicately into the passenger side, and Stiles bundled himself into the driver's seat.

"Awesome. Scott's all set with Allison, and I've got Lydia, so now all we've gotta do is to ask Erica to go as your date."

Lena froze, paralysed with the fear that he was serious. He was, she could tell. Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3: On The Spot

They kicked at the branches and the leaves, trudging dutifully through the forest. Scott and Stiles both, obviously, fell straight into the creek, shin deep in the dirty water. As any twin brother should, Stiles turned back and with a casual demeanour that really did not stand so strongly considering he was drenched from the knee downwards, and motioned vaguely towards the creek.

"Uh, yeah. Watch out for that, Lena. You're welcome."

"You're a real... modern day... Indiana Jones... man..."

"I know. Thank you. Good to be acknowledged."

Scott was already moving on ahead, parting the forestry for them. "I- I don't know what it was. It was like... I had all the time in the world to catch the ball, and that's not the only weird thing. I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear... smell things..."

"Smell things," Stiles remarked, shooting Milena a look. She shrugged, focusing on keeping up with the fast pace the guys were maintaining. She was far more likely to go sprawling along the forest floor. Even Stiles managed obstacles and hurdles better than she could. "Like what?" He asked Scott, his tone verging on incredulity. Scott stopped walking, as did Stiles, and Lena almost crashed into both of them. Luckily she didn't, but neither would have noticed. Scott turned his head towards Stiles,

"Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket."

Stiles smirked, visibly sure he'd caught Scott's bullshit in his tracks, as he reached into his pocket, "I don't even have any mint mojito..." Stiles frowned, eyes blowing wide as all hell as he fished a square of gum out of his pocket. Milena gulped. Scott turned her way, now.

"Yours is just bubblegum. Good taste."

Milena scoffed, dipping her hand into her pocket the way Stiles had done with his, "Yeah, okay, 'cause I'm not at all predictable." Just as her twin had, Lena froze up, and withdrew her hand to reveal the bubblegum she hadn't been aware was there. Her eyes darted across to lock with Stiles' and without speaking, they exchanged a silent 'what the fuck'. Stiles shook his head, eyebrows raised and followed Scott's lead, walking off again.

"Okay, so this all started with the bite."

"W-what if it's like an infection? Like my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock, or something."

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this. It's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called... lycanthropy."

"What's that? Is that bad?" Milena narrowed her eyes, doing a double take to see if Scott was serious. Upon further inspection, the boy appeared to be genuinely concerned for his own wellbeing, worrying over whatever his mind thought this 'lycanthropy' could be. She kicked a twig at him.

"Scott," she scoffed, disappointed.

"Oh, yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month." Stiles continued the charade.

Scott appeared genuinely taken aback, "Once a month?"

"Mhm. On the night of the full moon." Stiles snapped out of his mock seriousness, and gave a quirky, quiet wolf howl. Finally, Scott realised he was being messed with, and shoved Stiles away from him, stalking off. Stiles laughed, still following him along, rubbing at his chest.

"Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling."

"There could be something seriously wrong with me!"

"I know! You're a werewolf! Grrr!" Scott looked less than amused. Milena couldn't blame him. "Okay. Obviously, I'm kidding. But, if you see me in shop class, trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's the full moon."

Abruptly, once again, and without warning, Scott stopped, and so did Stiles. For the second time, Milena had to swerve to avoid crashing into them. "Guys," she groaned. They weren't paying attention.

"I could have sworn this was it." Scott scowled, gesturing to the area around them. "I saw the body... the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler..." he crouched down, examining the ground. Stiles glanced back to shoot her another 'what the hell' look.

"Maybe the killer moved the body," Stiles joked.

"Maybe we're in LOST and there are polar bears running loose and hatches in the ground."

"Nice pop culture reference. Pound it." Stiles and Milena bumped fists. Scott seemed to not hear anything beyond Stiles' quip about the body being moved.

"If he did I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like 80 bucks..."

"Uh, guys-" Milena spoke up, her attention now caught by something new to the scene. There was a guy. An older guy. Not too much older, from the looks of things, but old enough to cause relative concern. He stood there, all broody and dark and dangerous and handsome and glowered in their direction. She licked her lips, glancing back to Scott and Stiles before checking back to see that the new guy was still standing there. He looked up from where his gaze had been centered on Scott, then, and looked her straight in the eyes. Scott and Stiles were still messing around with the floor, bickering. " _Guys."_ She spoke louder, demanding their attention. Finally, Stiles looked up from Scott to see what it was Milena wanted, and jumped. He whacked at Scott's back, who in turn, stood. Both boys looked sheepish, and Stiles shifted forwards so that Milena was stood somewhat behind him. The stranger paced forwards through the undergrowth, his expression thunderous.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded. "Huh?" He prompted, when none of them gave an answer. "This is private property."

"Uh, sorry, man, we didn't know." Stiles supplied, nervously.

"Yeah, we were just looking for something that, uh..." Scott tried, but his courage waned the moment the man raised his eyebrows. "Forget it."

Surprisingly, the guy brought Scott's inhaler out of his pocket, and threw it to him. Even more surprisingly, Scott caught it. Milena cocked her head, eyebrows furrowed. What the hell... did that mean? That this random guy was just stalking around the forest with Scott's inhaler in his pocket? That's so weird! Why would he ever do that?

Scott didn't seem to think anything too weirdly of it, "Right, I'm gonna get to work." But just as it clicked for Milena, and she realised who the dude in the leather jacket was, Stiles smacked Scott's chest and exclaimed it.

" _Dude._ That's Derek Hale! You remember, right? He's only, like, a few years older than us."

"Remember what?"

Milena interrupted, "His family all burned to death in a fire. It was like ten years ago. It was, like, the worst thing to have happened in years. It was all over the news. Dad was working so much overtime-"

"Yeah,  _exactly_." Stiles agreed, pointing to Milena and nodding along.

"Wonder what he's doing back?" Scott murmured.

* * *

The next day was hell. Four hours. Another four hours of sleep. She couldn't go on like this.

"Lena," Stiles nudged her, his elbow colliding with hers. "Dude, front and centre. Stand to attention." She blinked wearily, slouched over her desk. Rubbing at her cheek, she leaned against her palm, her elbow propped up on the desk - the only thing actually keeping her upright. Milena spared Stiles a glance.

"What?"

"Your, uh, your girl's just walked in." Thankfully, he had the good grace to whisper this bit, as, indeed, Erica had just walked into the room. Unfortunately, though, timing had never been a strong point for the Stilinski twins. They both happened to be staring at Erica when she glanced their way, and like a rabbit caught in headlights, she froze, and her expression fell from neutral boredom to miserable paranoia. She sunk into her seat, curling over into herself a little as she did so. Immediately, Milena stood up, her hands shaking. Oh, god. No, no, no. This was not something she'd ever wanted to make Erica feel. To her left, she could sense Stiles' regret, and the apology he was preparing to give her. She didn't care. Erica thought they were talking about her. She thought they hated her. Oh, god.

A hand planted itself firmly on her shoulder and sat her back down in her seat.

"Miss Stilinski, kindly sit back down. My class is beginning."

"I just-"

"No. I will not have you or your brother disrupting my class, once again. It's a wonder the two of you are allowed to  _attend_  the same classes, let alone  _sit so close to each other_." This was quickly becoming a whole new thing entirely. Astonished, and more than a little taken aback, because, what the hell had she  _or_  Stiles ever done to this man anyway? - Milena remained seated.

"Uh, sir, excuse me? Hello. Yeah. That's, uh- that's not fair? At all?" Stiles piped up, his complexion now featuring those telltale angry blotches on his cheeks that indicated he was losing his temper. Milena covered her eyes and slid down further in her seat, shying away from all the unwanted conflict and attention. "Also, I'm pretty sure you can't just  _manhandle_  my sister like that. I'm no cop but my dad  _is_  the Sherriff and, you know, oddly, I don't think he'd be too happy to hear you're shoving her around. Last I checked, this was a  _high school_ , and not  _WWE_."

Mr Brindley was turning an angry shade of red. His fist was clenched so tightly around the back of her chair that she felt it trembling with how strongly his hand was shaking. Subtly, she leaned forward, away from it. There was no escaping Mr Brindley's ire, however, as his flashing eyes whipped round to her, making her feel like the equivalent of a beetle under a magnifying lens. All she could do was sit there and wait for the concentrated rays of the sun to burn her alive.

" _Miss Stilinski._ " He thundered, and pointed towards the front of the room, about as far away from Stiles as possible, and right next to where Erica was sitting. Milena swallowed, thickly. Her throat was suddenly dry and scratchy and sore, and she wanted to itch away the irritation. She never understood when characters in books spoke of wanting the floor to open up and swallow them until now. Until this very moment. But this was no book, and Erica Reyes was sitting over there, and she was evidently about to be forced to go and join her. "Collect your things and relocate yourself to the front. There's a seat free next to Miss Reyes. Kindly refrain from disturbing  _her_  as well."

This was the worst possible outcome. After this, Stiles wouldn't be doing her chores just for a week to make up for this, but for  _months_ , and he'd have to make her pancakes every week, too. With her head ducked and her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor, Milena did as she was told and trudged over to the front, sliding silently into the seat beside Erica's. She could feel her insides catching alight, her heart racing and pulsing and going wild inside of her chest. Her legs were shaking. Her knees were weak. Her palms were sweaty. She was basically that Eminem song. Minus the Mum's spaghetti.

As tactfully as she could manage, Milena put her elbow up on the table, and hid her face from Erica with her palm, leaning into it with her cheek. She couldn't help the hyper-anxious way her fingers drummed on the desk, a habit she'd picked up from her brother. It was impossible to stop. She could feel Erica staring at her. Once again, she worried about her side profile. Did it look any good? She had no way of knowing.  _Oh, well_ , she supposed.  _It's too late now. She hates me anyway_.

There was no concentrating on the class now - not that there had been much hope before - but now she was well and truly doomed to fail. If Mr Brindley hoped getting her away from Stiles would somehow boost her grade, sitting her next to Erica had been the worst possible move he could have made. But, of course, there was no way for him to have known or even suspected this. They lived in a hetero-normative society, after all. Ironically, it's probably the reason he thought sitting Milena next to Erica would be far less distracting than sitting her next to another boy. It wasn't until halfway through the lesson, when Mr Brindley ordered them all to team up with their pre-planned seating arrangement based partners, that Lena realised just how awful the day was due to be. Her heart beating out of her chest and all but blocking up her throat, she turned to see Erica watching her expectantly. There was a tired sort of sad resignation in her eyes, though. Exactly the look someone might give you if you had given them no reason to believe you didn't hate them. She even looked a little fearful, like Lena would reach over and bite her head off the moment she tried to talk to her. It was like a stab of anguish to the chest.

Erica blinked, tucking her hair back behind her ears. It was in a loose ponytail, as it always was. Gloriously frizzy and untameable. It was entirely too distracting. Milena trembled.

"I'm Erica," Erica was the first to speak. Lena honestly considered the possibility that she might actually be dying.  _I know you're Erica! I know who you are! I've always known! I love you!_

She tried to speak a few times, but had to pretend she was clearing her throat the first two, until she finally managed to choke out a response, "I- I, uh, I know." Erica's eyes narrowed a little, speculatively. They travelled down from Lena's eyes to where her hand was gripping the table, shaking. Those eyes of hers widened.

"You okay?"

Milena followed Erica's line of sight, and quickly withdrew her hand into her lap. "I, uh, hah- no, not really. Uh. M-my social anxiety is flaring. A little." She cringed, cursing herself for revealing something so embarrassing to the one girl she'd ever fallen for. But she couldn't help herself. There was something so approachable about Erica. There was something so...  _honest_  inside of Milena that reared it's head and demanded to be heard when she was in her presence. It prickled at her like pins and needles on the inside. This was not going well.

Erica nodded, thoughtfully, considering. "Oh, shit. I get it. I have that, too."

Milena blinked.  _She has it too?_  But of  _course_  she did! Her epilepsy was so debilitating and impacted her life so much that it was school wide knowledge that it left her socially crippled, too nervous to give talks at the front of the class or go up to the board to do equations. It had  _never_  occurred to Milena that maybe Erica was  _just like she was_ , but that was a big part of the anxiety, wasn't it? Feeling like you're the only one. It was that damning, deterministic, fatalistic view. Of course Erica could relate. Of course she understood. Milena felt like such an idiot, and in her distracted state of revelation, she smiled.

"You have no idea how much that means to me," she uttered, softly. Erica's eyes widened a little, and she even straightened herself up a little further. Milena shifted about in mirrored discomfort. Shit. She'd forgotten that Erica was under the impression she hated her. It must have been a hell of a mixed message for her to give. If there was any time for her to be confident, it was now. She needed Erica to not be paranoid because of her. "I, uh, that is... I mean... my brother and I..." she cleared her throat again, aware that she was blushing.

Erica tilted her head, her eyebrows raising in interest at the mention of Stiles. "Yeah?" She asked, her voice rising hopefully.

Milena's posture sunk right along with her heart. It hit the ground and shattered, leaving her with such an achingly hollow feeling that she was surprised she could continue to breathe.  _Erica likes Stiles_. God, of course she did. All those times Lena had caught her looking in their direction had been translated into misguided hope when it should have been processed and looked at as what it really was. Her eyes were never searching for Milena in that busy cafeteria. Those wayward glances and sneaking, occasional looks had never been for her. It had all been for Stiles, and Milena had stolen it and swallowed it blindly, gladly. Like an idiot. All this time she'd been hungry for affection that simply wasn't hers, and that really...  _really_  sucked. She felt herself sinking into a depression, all energy she'd had leaving her in a hurry.

"I just... don't want you to think we hate you, or anything." She answered, her voice suddenly calm and solemn. If Erica noticed, she didn't mention it. "We noticed we keep accidentally looking at you when you look at us, and I didn't want you to think we were talking about you. I didn't want you to be paranoid."

Erica lit up, a dazzling smile on her face now. It hurt like hell, but Milena returned it, halfheartedly. "Oh, that's cool. I was kinda worried, yeah. Thanks. Thank you." Lena wiped her palms off on her jeans.

"It's... yeah, you're welcome. No problem."

"Well, anyway..." Erica looked like she was debating with herself whether she wanted to say something or not, and seemingly decided against it. "Do you..." she trailed off, unfocused for a second. She must have changed her mind again, and decided against what she was going to say, because she recovered from it, turning the question into a different one. "Do you think Holden Caulfield... is... a... um..."

"Reliable narrator? Not especially. He kinda sucks, sometimes. He's a very opinionated dude. I doubt he's telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

Erica laughed, and it was like  _heaven_ , but it was all so hard to stomach because  _Erica likes Stiles_. "Yeah, he sucks."

Milena wanted so badly to just sob and go home and find a way to transfer schools and forget that Erica Reyes ever existed. And maybe she was overreacting. Maybe she was being dramatic. No, she was definitely being  _both_  those things, and she knew that because despite being only 16 she had a remarkable outlook on who she was both from an inside and  _outside_  perspective, and could therefore take a critical and honest outlook on herself. Milena was a very meta child. She was cynical when need be, and both selfish  _and_  selfless in equal amounts. Which was why she could take the time to dwell in her heartbreak over Erica, and then turn around and fix up a date with Stiles for her within the space of ten minutes or so. Stiles wouldn't mind. He shouldn't. Not when he owed her. This could be his penance. She would drop all debts if he did this for her.

"Hey, so... your brother...?" Erica began.

"... Is very, very single." Lena forced herself to say, and took up a deceivingly okay posture in her chair. "And has an invite to Lydia Martin's party this Saturday. You wanna go with him?"  _Fuck, it hurt_. Shit. Ow.

Erica looked to be over the moon until Lydia was mentioned, at which point she seemed to shrink in on herself, a hand reaching up as a force of habit to play with a loose strand of her hair, twirling it around and around her finger to an extent that  _must_  have been getting painful. Lena wanted to reach out and pull that hand away. She wanted to lace Erica's fingers with her own and keep them safe in her lap. She wanted to caress the back of her hand with the soft pad of her thumb and soothe all of those years of torment and borderline torture away. Sure, Lydia had never been one of those who took the videos of Erica when she had her seizures, of share them, or laugh at them, or mock Erica to her face - but neither had the queen bee done anything to rid the school of them. She could have done it, if she so wished. But she hadn't. And neither had anyone else - Danny Mahealani being the only exception. Everyone liked Danny, and there was a reason for that. She remembered the first few days after Erica had had her seizure, and it had been filmed and promptly distributed. Milena couldn't remember ever being so  _furious_  in her life. She and Stiles had both stayed up for three nights, working together to find the source of the videos, and destroying each and every piece of evidence of it. The moral justification being that anybody who would stand around and laugh, let alone film and share around a video of a girl having an epileptic fit pretty much deserved to be hacked and have their property tampered with.

Milena's eyes averted to the form of Scott, staring at her in astonishment from behind Erica in the second row away from theirs. She locked eyes with him for a moment, and then returned her attention once more to the only person she had ever felt anything remotely romantic for, and prepared herself to make a sacrifice in order to see her smile.

"The best way to show them that you do not give a  _shit_  is to show up to their party, Erica. Show them that you're fine, that you're not affected by their games and that you deserve to party and  _enjoy yourself_  just as much as they do." There was an undeniable passion in her voice. It had Erica raising her eyebrows and parting her lips in abject shock and wonder. Nobody had ever given her a speech like this, Milena knew. "If you run, and- and you  _hide?_ Then they win. They win. They win every time. Those assholes don't  _deserve_ to win."

"Milena-"

"I think it's about time  _Erica Reyes_ won. Don't you?"

Erica was clearly trying not to smile, but there was this rosy hue to her cheeks and a shiny aspect to her eyes that betrayed her. Eventually, she just gave in, and wrung her hands. Lena could see the caution behind it all, though. After all, what motive would Lena  _have_  to want to make all her dreams come true, like this? None. There was every reason that this could be another ploy for exploitation and humiliation.

"So, what, you're just rooting for the little guy?" Erica asked, a slight edge to her voice. Not that Milena could blame her.

"I saw what they did to you." Milena's voice dropped along with her tone, the message taking on a note of sincerity and residual anger. "I don't think they should just get to get away with that."

"Why the hell do you  _care_?" Erica was clearly affected, trying not to choke up and betray her feelings on the subject through her tone of voice.

"'Cause I can't hear shit, and they mock me for it."

"... I... didn't know that."

"Not many people do. It's part of my intricate character back story. Gives me the right to brood."

Erica tipped her head back and  _laughed_. Milena didn't think she'd ever  _seen_  her laugh so valiantly or look so genuinely happy and carefree. Her entire face lit up, the creases by her eyes and on her forehead melting away with her worries for just that brief moment. Oh, and it was so  _glorious_.

"So..." Erica had somehow managed to avoid the wrath of Mr Brindley. Most likely because he was so busy fawning over Jackson in the back row. "Stiles  _wants_  to go with me?" There was something so undeniably beautiful about the pure  _hope_  in her voice. She couldn't deny that. She couldn't deny  _her_  that.

"I'll set it up for you after class. I promise."

"Why are you so  _nice_? I don't get it."

She couldn't exactly let her know that Erica was the only one she was this  _nice_  to, beyond Scott and Stiles. "I'm very mature for my age."

"Well, thanks." Erica smiled.

* * *

Stiles was understandably not ecstatic to be taking his twin sister's crush on a date to a party hosted by  _his_  crush. It was very far from any kind of ideal scenario he'd pictured or dreamed up.

"No! No, absolutely not. No, Lena! I said no. No."

"Stiles, you  _owe me_."

"Yeah, sure, it was very unfortunate that she happened to be looking at us at the exact same time we were looking at her, and,  _yeah_ \- it sucks that my... rebellious attitude and taste for righteous justice got you sent directly to the front of the class to sit next to her, but-"

"Stiles.  _Please_. Do this one thing for me."

"You don't understand! I can't go to a party at  _Lydia's house_  and take a date. I can't! I just can't. How the hell does that ever communicate that I'm single and available?"

"Lydia's with Jackson!  _She's_  not single! If anything, you might even make her jealous. You never know."

Stiles sighed, like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and placed a hand on Lena's shoulder. "If I do this for you... I'm gonna need 30 loads of curly fries as reparations. Deal?"

"Deal," she beamed.

"Fine. Alright. I'll do it."

And he did.


End file.
